Apperception
by Goddess Blue
Summary: WIP. AW slash. The process of understanding by which newly observed qualities of an object are related to past experience. Angel begins to understand Wesley.


Disclaimer: **Buffy the Vampire Slayer** and **Angel the Series**, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of Warner Bros and Mutant Enemy. They are used here for entertainment purposes only.

Warnings: Slash. Akwardness. Language.

Spoilers: Through Angel Season 5: Harm's Way

**Apperception**

_**Apperception**: The process of understanding by which newly observed qualities of an object are related to past experience._

Angel used to look at Wes and know that he knew him. He used to look over at Wes, in the middle of a case, and see the slight, british man chewing on his lip and frowning deeply, staring down at a slip of paper as if it were some nasty mathematical equation in need of solving.

Angel used to look over in the early morning, when the Brit dragged himself to work, and watch as, in the space of a minute, Wes would draw himself together and take charge.

Angel used to look over in the dead of night, chest heaving in unneeded breath as Wes wiped his arms clean of dust and blood and looked grimly satisfied.

He remembers the days when he looked over at Wes and saw that faintly confused look on his face when the Watcher's eyes were fixed firmly on him... before slipping quickly away and focusing elsewhere.

Angel remembers a lot of things about Wesley. Including the things that Wesley doesn't remember.

Especially the things that Wesley doesn't remember.

He remembers taking one look at him and wanting... with some primal angry need in the bottom of his gut, to walk to him and rip his intestines out through his nostrils. He remembers holding the pillow over the man's face, and the mirror of Wes' grimly satisfied look on his own face.

He remembers almost feeling free as he felt Wes' life slipping away though the cotton and fingers.

He remembers the sick disgust as he watched Wes' eyes flicker wildly around, and the disappointment at the stuttered heaving of the slight man's chest.

He remembers three months at the bottom of an ocean, where he dreamed of calling Wes family again.

Brother.

He remembers the taste... the wicked freedom in Wes' blood. The... almost human thrum of his own veins circulating, all thanks to Wes. He remembers the taste.

He remembers his whole body sagging into the creaking nothingness of his centuries old blood. He remembers arching up into Wesley's wrist, teeth elongating, eyes flashing...

He remembers forgiving Wes... but not forgetting.

He remembers licking his lips for weeks afterward.

He still looks at Wes' neck when his Head of Research tilts it... just.. like... that...

It's been so long since he's had Wes' blood... and he can almost taste it.

He remembers the moment he realized that Wes would do, and had done, _anything_ for him.

_Anything_.

The things Wes had done for him numbered upwards of horrific... made him break out in sweat. Or clamminess, if you want to be completely accurate.

There hadn't ever been anyone before who had done so much for him, in return for so little.

Conner's kidnapping... he'd thought he'd understood Wes' motivation behind it until just recently. And even now, when the brunette himself didn't remember it at all, Angel did. And wondered.

But now he really knew. Or, thought he did.

Wesley loved him.

It confused Angel. For several reasons, most of which were...

"But it's so _obvious_ Wes is in love with Fred."

But maybe it wasn't. Maybe... Angel remembers thinking, a long time ago when he had a little baby to take care of and a human family to watch and muse over, that Fred was an idiot for either not seeing what Wes wanted to give her, or not being interested.

He takes a moment in his office, ruminating over this boring file, and has himself an epiphany, only this one won't get Cordy and Wes and Gunn fired.

Wesley loved him, and wanted him to be happy.

For a while, it had been missing. That concern for Angel on Wesley's behalf. For a long while Wesley had other things to be worried about and, quite frankly, Angel didn't deserve Wes' love.

Wesley kidnapped his son to ensure that Angel would never know the pain of killing someone he really loved.

Angel knew a lot of pain. Heaps and buckets and treasure troves of pain. He'd killed people he loved in his own mind time and time again, ruminating over what might happen if he were ever to lose the soul, but it had never happened.

He was lucky.

Wesley had attempted to save him from that.

Wesley was always trying to save him, even when that was supposed to be Angel's job.

He knew that Wesley cared about him, and maybe even knew that Wesley thought of Angel as family.

But... Angel had never had someone like Wes before.

He wondered idly if anyone else would have taken Connor away from him. Anyone else would have shaken their heads and told Angel about the prophecy, the ridiculousness of it all stuck in their silly little heads.

Because no one believed that a father could do something like that to his son.

That Angel could do that to Connor.

Angel remembers hearing Wesley hoarsely whispering apologies to his father the night he'd killed his look-a-like. Sorry to have woken him.

Sounding broken.

Wesley still loved his _father_, who'd done God knows what to his self-esteem and psyche.

Wesley knew what people were capable of, no matter how deeply they loved their family, and refused to let Angel become something he would be ashamed of.

He had unilaterally decided that Angel had enough guilt on his shoulders, and that some of it should be placed squarely on _his_.

Wesley had loved Angel, and was fully prepared to give him up, just for Angel's sanity.

He'd _had_ to know what Angel would do when he'd found out Wesley was responsible for Connor's disappearance. Death would be swift, guilt would be heavy...

He'd seen the shame in Wesley's eyes as he'd nearly died under a hospital pillow and Angel's strength.

"Angel?"

Angel looked up from his file, staring blankly at Wesley for a moment, before blinking rapidly.

"Yeah, Wes?"

"I'm off now. Call me if you need anything."

Wes was the only one who still did that. Checked in to say goodnight. Angel imagined Cordy would if she were awake...

"Good night, Wes."

His eyes slid slowly away from his Watcher and back down to a paper he must have read over a thousand times.

There was a shifting, and then a bag was dropped and Angel sensed that Wesley was drawing near.

"What's bothering you, Angel?"

Angel shook his head and tried to focus on his paper.

"Angel?" Wesley pulled the file folder out of Angel's grip and set it aside. "I know thing's have been akward lately... since we arrived at Wolfram and Hart-"

"Wes?"

Wes cut himself off and waited with raised eyebrows for Angel to continue.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?"

There was a pregnant pause, and then Wesley's brows furrowed and he looked behind him. Then he turned back to Angel. "What?"

"Dinner?"

"I suppose we could call in some Chinese... haven't you eaten?" Wesley gestured to Angel's decanter, even as Angel started to smile bemusedly and shake his head.

"I mean, Wesley, would you like to go out? On a date?"

Wesley looked at him blankly.

"With me?"

Wesley opened his mouth, but Angel interrupted him.

"I mean, I know I don't _eat_, but there's this nice Thai place that I heard Fred and Harmony talking about... what is going on with those two anyway?"

Wesley's face cleared and became guarded. "I have no idea. Angel, are you _sure_ you're alright?"

"That depends," Angel's face was probably just as blocked off, and the two men seemed to be wary of each other all of the sudden. Angel's gut began to churn.

"On what?"

"On whether you agree to have dinner with me."

Wesley looked uncomfortable.

"You don't _have_ to-"

"I don't?"

Angel's heart sank. "No, Wes. I just... thought..."

"I'd love to."

Wesley looked down at his feet, and Angel had a flashback to oversized black leather jackets and stuffy English tweed.

"Good."

"Okay."

They were silent again for a moment.

"Friday good?" Angel said, still trying to muddle his way through this god awful conversation. Maybe he should have taken more time to think up a better way to do this. Did Wes like flowers?

"Friday is fine. Assuming my boss doesn't saddle me with an extra workload." As usual, Wes' humor was dry, but Angel was relieved to hear it back at all.

"If he tries, I'll kill him."

Angel's was, just as usual, sorely lacking in charm.

Wesley nodded, then gave Angel a confused smile and headed towards the door, bending to pick up his bag on the way.

Angel was just looking back down at his file, hoping to finally be able to concentrate, when Wes' voice floated back to him.

"Good night, Angel. Call me if you need anything..."

**To Be Continued...**


End file.
